


Take the Long Way Home

by toradhiontach



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Pining, Self-Hatred, Smooching, X-Men: Apocalypse Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7075543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toradhiontach/pseuds/toradhiontach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt's feeling lonely and ugly, and other bad things, so Scott decides to take him on a nice long drive, to show him how special he is. There's nothing Scott loves more than Kurt laughing as he speeds down the highway, nothing he loves more than seeing Kurt's eyes reflect the moonlight, as they stare at constellations, and Kurt teaches him the German words for them :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take the Long Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't like songfics, or naming stories after song lyrics, but I was listening to E.MO.TION today and honestly it's one of the most underrated pop classics of our generation? Carly Rae Jepsen is truly #iconque
> 
> Anyway, there's a song called Let's Get Lost, and it's such a jam? And there's another song called Making the Most of the Night, both songs are about driving and being in love, and I was inspired?
> 
> Because what nerd ass muffin boy likes to drive and is in love with Kurt Wagner? That's right!

Kurt heard Scott coming home before he saw him. His keen ears flicked toward the sound of Scott's car driving up the gravel pathway to the Manor. He couldn't help the hopeful grin on his face as he saw the bright red mustang growing closer, classic rock filling the air, though it wasn't tastelessly loud (Scott thought all modern music was 'shit' as he put it, but Kurt knew he had bought all of Dazzler's records).

The sinking sun reflected off of Scott's glasses as he stepped out of his car. When he saw Kurt sitting on the stairs leading to the main doors, he cocked an eyebrow and smiled easily. 

Kurt's heart fluttered as his friend strolled over to him, his tail perking up and swishing wildly. Scott's hands were in his pockets. With his scuffed up tennis shoes, faded jeans, leather jacket, and polo shirt worn stretched tight over his muscles, Scott was effortlessly cool. But as Peter had told him, Kurt would think anything was cool wearing Lederhosen and the like his whole life.

"What's up, dude?" Scott asked, taking a seat next to him. His hair was gloriously windwhipped from his afternoon ride. He looked so happy, Kurt didn't want to ruin Scott's fun time with his problems.

"I have not had a good day," Kurt eventually admitted, when the silence went from pleasant to uncomfortable. Scott was absentmindedly petting his tail, and Kurt hoped Scott wouldn't notice his cheeks blushing deep violet, and his heart rate increasing drastically. Scott had never realized how… intense it was for him to touch him there. But it wasn't as if Kurt wanted him to stop.

"That sucks," Scott mused. "Where's Jean?"

Oh, asking for Jean immediately. Kurt's tail drooped in Scott's hand. He quirked an eyebrow at that, but if he was suspicious he didn't say anything.

"She is still out shopping with the girl friends," Kurt sighed. "I am tremendously bored, and lonely. They wouldn't let me come. I even begged Jubilation, but she said not this time."

Scott scoffed, and Kurt snapped his head toward his friend, terrified that he seemed pathetic and uncool in the eyes of his very cool friend. It was a little sad that Kurt couldn't be bothered to do anything but wait for Scott to come home like a codependent dog waiting for its owner, in its mind thinking it's been abandoned forever. 

His horror must have shown on his face, because Scott chuckled, but not meanly, never meanly with Scott. Kurt lowered his gaze sheepishly.

"Enough of this pity party. Get up," Scott jolted upright and held out his hand. Kurt accepted it cautiously, his giant fingers clasping around Scott's tiny ones. Kurt could feel the heat of Scott's hand seeping into his. And then Scott pulled him to his feet with incredible ease (another thought that brought that plum colored tinge to his face). 

"Let's go," Scott continued, strolling back to his Mustang, pulling Kurt along with him. "Come on, Elf Boy. Just the two of us, let's cruise. Whaddaya say?"

He hadn't let go of Kurt's hand. 

Kurt's tail started thrashing wildly as excitement thrummed through his entire body. "You mean it, Scott?"

"Yeah man," Scott smirked. "Don't act like hanging out with you is such a chore, Jesus." But as per usual Scott's teasing was not meant to make Kurt feel bad about himself. 

Kurt disappeared in a cloud of inky blue smoke and rematerialized in the passenger seat of the Mustang, buckling his seatbelt. He was practically bouncing. His drummed his hands on his knees and his tail kept time behind him thumping against the headrest.

Scott climbed into the driver's seat and laughed. It was one of his genuine laughs, a secret one that had no cynicism or sarcasm in it. Kurt liked when Scott let one of those laughs slip out around him, it made him feel special. 

"All ready to go, bud?" Scott checked his mirrors and started the engine, pausing to buckle his own seatbelt. 

"Where are we going?" Kurt asked as Scott put the car into drive and they began to roll out of the long gravel pathway toward the highway. 

"It's a surprise," Scott said, with a half smile. 

Scott drove for what seemed like hours. He was mostly silent; it was sometimes difficult to read him with his thick ruby colored glasses. Kurt instead focused on the trees that whooshed by and the rolling hills that inches past. The sky turned pink and purple and orange and cicadas shrieked in the evening air.

The wind roared in his ears as Scott sped them down the road. The warm summer air split in front of them. The further the sun sank as they drove along, the chillier it became. Kurt shivered, wishing he had brought a coat. 

"Cold?" Scott asked. He shimmied out of his jacket and handed it to Kurt. 

"You are driving!" Kurt yelled over the sound of the road. But he gratefully pulled the leather jacket over himself. The sleeves were too short and the shoulders were too wide, but he soon felt comfortably snug. Kurt tried not to look at the way the too-tight sleeves of Scott's shirt nicely highlighted his biceps. 

Kurt noticed Scott was looking at him too, his eyes flitting across his features. Kurt blushed under the attention. Scott was probably remarking how odd Kurt looked- how ugly. He was in love with Jean. And who wouldn't be? Jean was beautiful, and talented, and smart, and driven. Kurt was none of those things. Plus he was a boy and he could only wish that Scott liked boys. 

"It looks good on you," Scott interrupted his inner monologue of self deprecation.

"What?" Kurt near-shouted. Kurt had a far superior sense of hearing than normal humans, but he had to make sure he hadn't imagined that.

"My jacket. It looks good on you," Scott smiled. Not one where he sneeringly twisted his lips in irony, but a full smile, reaching the wrinkles by his eyes. 

"Scott, bittschee, watch the road!" Kurt yelled to hopefully draw attention from his deeply purple face. He wished the compliment had been more than just a friend cheering up another friend.

"Relax, ba- dude, there's no one else on the road," Scott laughed. "It's already nightti-"

Suddenly a car horn blared at them. Scott swore loudly and swerved the car back into their lane and floored it instinctively, letting out a breath all at once. He laughed to relieve the tension, but Kurt had heard the people in the other car with his sensitive ears.

The man had sworn, yelling at the 'damn mutants', and his wife had commented on how 'hideous they are'. Kurt sank into his seat, trying to pull his knees up to his chin to hide from the world.

"What's wrong?" Scott said, his brow furrowing in worry. 

"Nix," Kurt muttered with a watery voice. He looked at his giant hands, looking misshapen and twisted, his fingers long with ugly blunt claws for nails, his skin a hideous shade of blue, covered in scars, from a time when he was taught that he was a sinful little beast, that the only way to cleanse himself was to carve the icons of angels into his skin… Kurt had also secretly wished that if he cut deep enough, the tan skin of a normal human boy would emerge, and he would wake up from a bad dream. 

He really didn't want to cry in front of Scott, who was so kind, without even realizing it. Scott made him feel so safe, most of the time. Kurt's body began to shiver despite the warm jacket- Scott's jacket. He could feel himself summoning his powers to hurl himself anywhere but where he was.

Kurt felt one of Scott's warm, perfect hands fit over his massive, revolting paws. 

"Do you want to talk about it? Scott asked, "I hate seeing you so upset," he added with a whisper, barely audible over the sound of the highway, but Kurt heard him. 

His heart fluttered, though it felt more like it was being squeezed in a vice. A few tears did manage to well up, and one or two leaked out of the corner of his eye. He didn't answer his friend.

"Hey, we're here," Scott announced, more talking to himself. "Surprise," he added lamely. 

Kurt looked up. Scott had driven them off the main highway and onto a service road. They must have driven north up the Hudson valley. It was completely dark, the moon rising steadily in the night sky. Kurt had no trouble seeing in the dark, and clearly saw the sign indicating it was a forest preserve. Crickets chirped in the calm of the night. An owl hooted every now and again. Kurt could hear the rush of a creek several dozen meters away. It was peaceful. 

He breathed in deeply the smell of maple and oak and birch, the rich moist earth and the gurgling brook. It almost smelled like Boarn. Not as clean though, but close enough. He wiped at his eyes, feeling his spirits lifting. Under the vast starry sky Kurt didn't feel so ugly or malformed. 

"It's beautiful here. Thank you for sharing this with me Scott," Kurt said. Before he could stop himself, he strode forward and pulled Scott into a tight hug. 

He felt Scott stiffen below him and he feared that this was too familiar for friends. He could always explain that it was a cultural difference, but then Scott relaxed and slid his arms around Kurt's waist. Scott pat his back a few times.

"No problem. But I didn't bring you here to just to look at trees, come on." He let go (oh how Kurt wished he hadn't) and made his way to the car where he pulled out a knapsack with a giant blanket rolled up on top of it. Then he started striding toward a hiking trail that presumably led up to a bluff. 

"Ah, you came prepared," Kurt mused. 

Scott chuckled. "Yeah well, where do you think I was earlier today? I had to find the perfect spot."

"The perfect spot for what?" Kurt asked, but Scott had already trotted behind the tree line, his normal ears wouldn't have heard Kurt's soft voice. Kurt jogged after him, enjoying how the leaves crunched under his bare toes. He would have bamfed after Scott, but he didn't know the area, he might have ended up impaled by a tree. 

"Scott?" He called, but the other teen had seemingly run full speed ahead of him. What kind of game was he playing? Kurt wasn't afraid of getting lost when he could see clearly as if it were day, but he was worried that Scott might trip and hurt himself.

It only took him about 10 minutes to reach the bluff Scott had pointed to. Scott had laid out the picnic blanket and was lying on it, his hands behind his head, staring at the night sky. 

Kurt gingerly walked toward him and joined him on the blanket. Up on the escarpment the air was a little cooler, the insects a little more bold with their music, the brook harder to hear. 

"I could live out here forever," Kurt broke the silence. 

"Yeah, it's pretty awesome. I had to pick the perfect spot. It's not really the same, but that doesn't matter so much as…"

"How it feels," Kurt finished for him.

"Yeah," Scott breathed. 

After another long stretch of time, Scott pointed up. "See that, we call that the Big Dipper, what do you call it back home?"

"Da gressa Bär," Kurt said easily, "Or, in Schriftspråch, der Großer Bär," he added quickly. He could tell Scott wasn't following one way or another.

The spent a few minutes pointing out interesting looking stars to each other, recognizing constellations they learned as children, or making up their own. Kurt felt sleepy and content, like he could lie on this blanket forever, feeling the gentle breeze wash over him, hearing the animals who called this forest their home, lying next to Scott, hearing him breathe, feeling his warmth. 

"Hey, so you want to tell me why you were crying earlier?" Scott asked, but with enough deference and caution in his voice to let Kurt know he could back out of this conversation if he wanted.

Kurt sighed heavily, turning his head away. 

"I heard them. I hear everyone. They think I'm a monster."

"They're wrong," Scott said immediately.

"Thank you friend," Kurt whispered, and the word 'friend' felt heavy and numbing on his tongue. He swallowed thickly. 

"I just wish I were beautiful, but I'm not. I'm ugly." Kurt admitted. He did not want to see Scott's face in the pale moonlight. He shut his eyes tightly and pretended he was floating away. He felt Scott's hand on his shoulder. His whole body relaxed under his touch, feeling the heat of Scott's lovely hands seeping into him, through two layers of clothing and his ugly, scarred skin.

He shuddered, but not because of the breeze.

"Kurt."

Kurt peaked open his eyes. Scott had turned on his side, hovering over Kurt. His lips were slightly parted, but his eyes were inscrutable behind those glasses.

"I don't agree. I think you're amazing, and beautiful," Scott whispered. Kurt's heart fluttered excitedly, but it felt like it was being pulverized by an ice-like grip at the same time, ground into a pulp, just like the rest of him. 

"You do," and there was so much awe in Kurt's voice, that this time it was Scott's turn to have a deep red seep into his face. He nodded silently.

"But-" Kurt started but then Scott did it.

His friend leaned down, and gently, ever so gently (too damn gently), pressed his lips to Kurt's in a chaste kiss. It lasted a few brief seconds before Scott pulled away.

"Was that okay?" Scott breathed, his voice trembling a little. Kurt's whole body had stopped working, the only part of him that could move was his tail, thrashing around and thumping the ground, resolved to have a mind of its own.

"That was… that was more than okay," Kurt said, feeling tears stinging the corner of his eyes again. He couldn't believe it. This was a practical joke. 

Scott leaned down again, and this time, with more assurance, pressed his mouth onto Kurt's. It didn't take long for Scott's tongue to push into Kurt's mouth, and Kurt moaned softly as he felt Scott's tongue exploring, seeing what made Kurt keen into his mouth and what made Kurt whimper, only to have it swallowed. 

Kurt's whole face felt blazing hot. There was a suffocating heat clinging to his body as Scott bit his lip and his hand brought itself to Kurt's side, slipping under his own jacket and Kurt's shirt, to gently ghost his fingertips across the blue boy's skin. 

Kurt immediately latched onto Scott's shirt with his closest hand, letting it roam up Scott's body, feeling his muscles as his hand climbed, until it found refuge on Scott's broad shoulder. He held on for dear life as Scott absolutely ruined him with his tongue. His tail whipped around wildly, flinging everywhere, causing insects to scatter. Kurt hoped he wouldn't whack Scott in the face with it. 

When he felt Scott brush against one of his scars, Kurt suddenly pulled away. 

"Don't-" he started, but Scott hushed him with a finger to his lips. 

"It's okay. I won't do anything you don't want," Scott told him with complete seriousness in his voice. Kurt tried to lower his heart rate, to make his blood pressure go down, to do something to feel like he wasn't about to burst from nerves and excitement and fear and pain and-

"You never told me how you got all those," Scott asked suddenly and quietly. The crickets almost drowned him out. He grimaced immediately, knowing how crass that question must sound. 

"One day I will," Kurt promised in a jittery voice, barely above a hoarse whisper. His whole body was still tingling from the ordeal. It was a whirlwind of confusing emotions. He wished he had telepathy, so he could tell Scott that the kiss was amazing and perfect, just like Scott. But he was shaking too hard to force words up his throat. 

Scott's hand reached over and grabbed his, his thumb brushing over Kurt's knuckles. Kurt's ears relaxed, and his tail's thumping stilled. 

"You look like a scared cat," Scott snickered, he leaned down and pecked Kurt on the nose. 

"Sorry if all that was too much," Scott continued. How was this boy able to talk? Kurt just shook his head furiously.

Scott laughed, one of those gorgeous, real laughs that he kept to himself. 

His hand left Kurt's and roamed to his face. His fingers hovered over one of the patterns carved onto the boy's face. He ever so lightly traced it, and Kurt felt a blindingly white hot tremor go through him. He didn't know if he wanted to cry from happiness or self-loathing or something else entirely? He felt a little sick.

"I think every part of you is beautiful Kurt," Scott said with resolve.

"Those parts are not." Kurt insisted, his voice coming back to him, still hoarse and breathless.

Scott shifted so that he was straddling Kurt. Kurt scooted up so that the two were at eye level. Scott gently cupped Kurt's face in his hands. 

"I think they are. Don't get me wrong, whatever it is that caused them? Ugly, gross, evil, I want to shoot my eyebeams at it until there's nothing left. But you, Kurt, are beautiful, scars or no scars. Is this helping or am I making an ass of myself?" Scott laughed nervously.

Kurt was definitely going to throw up. Scott had always looked out for him since they met those months ago, had taken care of him, showed him kindness and affection. But hearing his frankly adorable little laugh, fretting over the right way to comfort him, Kurt's heart hurt. 

"It's alright," Kurt decided. It's not fair to ask you to understand when you can't- not yet at least. And I do appreciate what you're trying to say, I do, but there's nothing anyone could say that would make me feel better."

Scott nodded intently, darting forward to kiss Kurt's forehead. 

"Absolutely, your call babe,"

Kurt's tail started thumping the ground so loudly that Scott actually startled. When he realized the source of the sound, he laughed again. Kurt was going to die. 

"Can I ask you a question?" Kurt dared. Scott's eyebrow raised a hair.

"Did you always like me, like this?"

"Yeah…" Scott admitted, his face flushed again. This time Kurt felt daring and kissed Scott's nose. Scott's entire face dissolved into a goofy grin. He laughed and pushed Kurt down on his back. Kurt looked up at him with his eyes wide and trusting. The chirping of crickets and the far off gurgling of the stream provided a serene backdrop to this moment.

"I did too," Kurt admitted.

"That's a relief, honestly, because I would have gone to all this trouble for nothing," Scott smirked. It wasn't one of his normal smirks, one of his 'hey world I'm too good for you' smirks.

"Really?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah. Well for you and for something else," He slid off of Kurt and started rummaging through his knapsack. Kurt saw him retrieve a large, smooth stone, some various trinkets, a handmade wooden cross, and a picture of Alex Summers. 

Kurt's cautious little smile fell away. 

"Oh, Scott…" he said. Now he was unsure what to say. "I- I'm sorry, if you wanted to be alone to- to grieve for your brother I woul-"

"No, Kurt, I wanted you to come. Besides, this can be for both of us," Scott told him softly. "I… I wanted to, you know, do something to kind of send him off, you know? Since there wasn't a body to bury." He tried to surreptitiously wipe at his eyes behind his glasses.

"Will you help me, Kurt? I don't think I can do it alone."

Kurt and Scott dug a shallow divot into the soft earth, burying one of Alex' dog tags, a letter he had written to Scott from the army, a piece of cloth whose meaning Kurt couldn't guess, a pen with the name of a school printed on it- Alex' first job as a teacher, and a few other things. 

Kurt saw the wet tears streak down Scott's face, his own eyes were shining. He had not known Alex Summers for more than a few hours before he left for Washington, but the man had seemed kind, honest, and there was no judgment in his eyes when he shook Kurt's hand. He was so much like his brother. 

"Do you want to add something?" Scott asked, breaking the solemn silence.

What could he add to such a beautiful shrine? Scott laughed through his tears at Kurt's confused expression.

"You don't have to," Scott added quickly. 

Kurt paused, then picked up a tiny maple leaf. He pointed it insistently at Scott, and then dropped it in the pile.

"To Alex, to remember the way he… um… was like a leaf." Kurt's face flushed purple.

"No keep going," Scott prompted. He looked dead serious.

"I didn't know him at all, really, but his brother showed me that even if a leaf falls off its branch, the tree still stands… everything that little leaf did for the tree wasn't in vain… um, the other little leaves still remember it…" Kurt trailed off, his face prickling with embarrassment. "That was so stupid, I'm so sorry."

But Scott just hugged him tightly, with enough force to crush the air out of his lungs.

After everything was put in its grave, Scott put the picture on top. It was a photo of Scott as a young boy, sitting in front of a birthday cake, with Alex as a young adult, his arm around Scott's shoulder, smiling brightly. 

The handmade cross was driven into the ground, and the smooth polished stone was placed over the impromptu shrine. Scott let his hand linger on the rock.

"Will you pray for him?" Scott asked, with the smallest voice Kurt had ever heard on the normally boisterous and confident boy. "I don't know which saint to pray to," Scott added.

Kurt nodded. "I will pray to Saint Joseph for your brother." He closed his eyes and bowed his head, bringing his giant, freakish hands that Scott thought were beautiful and perfect, together.

"Gott unser Vater, Ihre Leitsung bringt uns zur Geburt, Ihre Vorsehung führt unser Leben, und durch Ihr Befehl kehren wir zu Staub…"

Kurt finished a few minutes later. Scott was drying his eyes. Kurt realized he was also crying. 

When he bamfed them both back to the car, the moon was high in the sky and even most of the insects had stopped singing. It must be very late. 

"The professor won't be pleased with us," Kurt noted, stifling a yawn. His body felt loose and weak, completely drained. It had been quite the emotional night to say the least.

"Oh it's Mystique we'll have to worry about," Scott laughed.

As they rode back, Scott's hand firmly clasped in Kurt's, the blue boy felt himself nodding off from the calming rhythm of the road. He figured Scott wouldn't mind if he just rested his head on his shoulder for a little while. 

Kurt woke up later, groggily attempting to ask what was going on, but Scott shushed him. The poor boy looked tired. 

"You fell asleep on the ride back, so I carried you inside," Scott said sheepishly. "Don't worry, you're pretty light, but your tail wouldn't stop smacking me," he chuckled as loudly as he dared. 

Scott leaned down and kissed Kurt on the cheek. So it hadn't been a dream. 

"Good night," Scott whispered, closing the door slowly behind him.

"Guade Nåcht," Kurt whispered back.

"Oh, by the way," Scott said, pausing, "We're both grounded for a week. Mystique was waiting for us."

As Kurt turned over and felt sleep come over him again, he didn't think spending a week confined to the mansion with Scott wouldn't be so bad, especially if there was more kissing to be had.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic. I'm officially shipper trash, yay @me
> 
> And listen this probably would have been longer but I wasted so much goddamn time trying to learn Bavarian German for really no reason other than aesthetic? Instead of writing a longer and cuter scene of Skurt stargazing I spent literally 20 minutes trying to verify the Bavarian words for "the bigger bear" I'm a mess. 
> 
> I'm so in love with Kurt Wagner? I hope I got his voice, if not 'correct' than at least compelling and worth reading. He's a blueberry freshly picked and gently washed, we must all cherish him.
> 
> And yes I know Kurt and Alex never met but shhhh because /what if they had/


End file.
